


Only Lovers Left Alive

by Bloodsucker99



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Bloodlines Feud, Jealousy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vampire!Mycroft, Werewolf!Greg, blood oath, shapeshifter john, vampire!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4576974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodsucker99/pseuds/Bloodsucker99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The East and West were embraced in eternal darkness, shadows revolted as the night befell, nestling against dark alleys lusting after blood. They were the realm of the undead, reigning by two ancient and powerful bloodlines: The Holmes and Moran clans. The South was impresciptible terriotry of werewolves, their feud with the vampires was epic and timeless. But the North was forbidden, haunted by soulless creatures and witches, there was nothing but tragic death and atrocious curses awaited upon the unfortunate.</p>
<p>What to become of the Hamish clan? No one knew. They vanished long ago, buried along the myth about their devine blood and magic skin. Or so the rumours went.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Lovers Left Alive

**Author's Note:**

> First of all if you are wondering, the story doesn't relate to the actual movie except for the vampires bits but that is the only common thing. I just like the tittle very much and think i would be a nice one for my story. I am indebted to my beta reader Vicky Beasley who has editted this chap for me.
> 
> This is my first crack at Vamplock so feel free to comment, I appreciate and treasure them all. And one last thing: the information is retrieved from Wikipedia and Vampire Wiki so I apologise in advanced for any historical inaccuracies.

The harsh winter intruded upon the air, brought on by the constant sprinkling, followed by the relentless wind that kept swaying the feeble leaves, one of which remained. Soon after, those crooked trees would shed their ill-fitted skin, leaving behind a resplendent, rustling leaf-carpet tinted with a mixture of yellow, red and brown. Only to be covered with a coat of dazzling white snow that had been falling since the instant winter descended.

 

The carriage halted to a screech, leaving angry, oblique lines on the snowy path. The guest merely grunted at the sudden jostle before alighting from the carriage. Under the additional weight, the weathered and old pieces of wood creaked only to be drowned out instantly in a flurry of shouting, murmurs and soughing. The tall stature assessed the store in disdain before finally turning the rusty doorknob and stepping in, shutting out whatever remained of the appalling weather. 

A puny, slovenly-dressed chap appeared behind the dusty counter and greeted him with an eager smile, those beady eyes lingering at the sight of silver beads embroidered in the fur-trimmed black cloak his customer was wearing.

“Welcome to the Draught Animals Shop. What can I do to help you sir?”.

The man cast off the hood to reveal a startlingly pale, almost translucent complexion, his jaw opening slightly in a fluent movement to make plain a set of acute porcelain fangs. 

The shopkeeper’s expression changed in a fraction of second, from gaping to stunned and then frightened before finally settling on a neutral one somewhere between reserved and timorous. His crooked smile shrunk like a withered flower, beads of sweat threatening to appear along his brows but he didn’t dare to wipe it for fear of betraying the mild tremor in his palm.

 

“I am on the lookout for a pet” the mysterious figure replied, his face was a mask of nonchalance and boredom as if he would prefer to be anywhere but here. The clerk snapped out of the stupor and shakily picked up the brass handle of the lantern in front of him. The words that escaped his throat were strained with force, barely audible and yet to the vampire’s ears they seemed awfully loud; the man’s elevating heartbeat, the fire crackling, the wind scratching outside, blood pumping through veins but then so did the matter with everything else.

 

“Right this way, my Lord”.

 

**************************

“This one here is a Cerberus, a two-headed dog, he is of Slovak origin and one of the last too. Each of the beast’s head has an appetite for live meat and thus forms an unbreakable bond to the spirit of the dead. They are exceedingly loyal and willing to receive order…” Another shake , jet black brows knitted together in disapproval. They had perused through every corner of the shop and yet there was nothing but a cranky fellow, a crazy vampire and no pet.

“With such keen eyes and nose he will make an excellent watchdog or sniffer hound, if you prefer.” He persisted desperately only to receive another frown from the vampire.

“No” It wouldn’t do. With that alarming amount of saliva the vile creature was capable of secreting in just a brief period, the beast was, certainly, going nowhere near him let alone to become his pet. 

The mere notion repelled him.

“How about this one?” The feeble and trembling man pointed to another steel cage, smaller and much cleaner too from the state of it. There were bit of straw scattered on the floor. A lump wriggled and he spotted a pair of antlers sprout from behind a stack of hay.

“Such a cutie, and right rare too. This Jackalope is very meek and gentle by nature, her diet composes of vegetable and grass mainly so the feeding wouldn’t cause much trouble an-

“Dull” 

His ears stopped functioning after the word “cute”. The rabbit would serve as a distraction, a nuisance, nothing more. Imagine all those maids, and servants coddling, cooing over it. He couldn’t even fathom the obession.

The mortal man’s blabbering nonsense was driving the vampire to the edge of insanity. He entertained the possibility of draining him dry which was unacceptable considering the inevitably sour blood and the gory mess. Too much for him to handle at once.

Suddenly a faint fragrance hit the vampire right in the nose, sending a tingling sensation through his body. He shuddered uncontrollably, stumbling and trailing after the compelling force and found himself dashing toward a dimly-lit corridor. His long coat tail flapped in coordination with the lightning speed.

It was apparent from the façade that few people had set foot on the place. For the first time of the evening, a spark of genuine interest appeared in those cheerless eyes, his voice like a bullet tore through the air.

“What is this place?”

“It’s for stray dogs and other untamed creatures, my Lord. It is not meant for visit or contemplation for the place is fraught with zoonosis and filth, I, please I assure you…sir- The little man stammered between gasps, trying his utmost to match those long strides.

The bloodsucker’s nasal cavity was promptly assaulted with a nauseous and pungent smell of filth the moment he stepped past the mouldy piece of wood that acted as a seperator between the two differing expanses. And then if that wasn’t already enough, the vampire’s ears began to be ambushed by a hysterical symphony of barks, snarls and even some yowls which caused his highly-sensitive ears to ring profusely.

Dogs.

It was the presence of the death, the smell of rotten flesh that provoked them, the genus had a gifted ability to detest the ethereal that hovered around spirits and other creatures from the netherworld. Of course, the list didn’t exclude vampires. 

The two species didn’t get along, understandably. 

An animalistic growl slipped out of his lips his causing vocal cords to quiver angrily in the process. Sherlock bared his cuspids intimidatingly to show them who was the dominant. Immediately, they subdued on defeat, ears pulled flat against their heads, tails tucked with sorrowful whines echoed through the compound.

Paying the brutes no heed, he continued to be led by his istinct. The instinct of an apex predator which meant they rarely wrong.

His heels paced slowly, circling, searching determinedly for something, something unusual, something out of the picture. It could be anything at all. An odd noise. A suspicious detail. A particular smell.

 

All the traces led him to a wedge-shaped wolfdog at the end of the hall. It didn’t bark or whine. Nor did it throw hostile glares at him. In fact, it didn’t do anything at all, apart from lying there watching him with impassive eyes. Crippled leg. Bulky. Feral. Intelligent. Other than that it was the typical image of an underfed non-magical hybrid. Nothing special at all. 

He sniffed the air again and surely this time the smell was much stronger. Nearer. Tastier. A sweet, milky aroma that made him nearly swoon with hunger. A wild desire for blood surged within him, his fangs were already jutted out, itching to bite and suck.

Losing control hadn’t happened since Sherlock was a fledgling. Driven solely by the urge to kill, fuck and drink. But that was decades ago. He had long mastered his etiquette both in table and in bed, they were nothing but impeccable.

His nose inhaled greedily trying to take in as much as the tantalising smell as possible. The smell couldn’t possibly came from the stink dog unless this was the consequence of his skipping too many feedings and refusing his body essential substances or his mind was playing trick on him.

The vampire refused to believed neither.

The dog and the vampire kept staring at each other, none of them refused to submit. As if somehow it held the key to his enigma.

 

And then out of nowhere a small whine startled both of them. Small. Muffled. They broke into blinks in unison for different reasons. The wolfdog started to bark, not at the vampire but rather something else. Himself? Something…. Insid..beneath it! Contrary to its attempt at holding his ground, the dog was losing his posture, he could tell. The mutt kept barking in panic and grew increasingly twitchy by seconds. A pinch of brown fur wriggled under it, wanting to get out despite the dog attempt at muzzling it back in no avail.

More brown fur. A head poked out, greeting Sherlock with a pair of perfectly round blue eyes like the sun was yellow and the leaf was green. Like the inky sky sparkling with zillions of luminous stars flickering in the darkness and wild specks of colours here and there. Like the crystal sea with waves shimmering, churning and falling against the shore sending foam flying into the air.

 

Sherlock was trapped, thrashing as he might, he was incapable of finding a way out of this crazed maze. 

The thing squeaked and the vampire was hopelessly enchanted. 

A rumbling sound rushed out from the vampire.

“A fox!What a mystery!” A mystery, indeed. 

 

*******************************

“Come here, I won’t bite. Come now, don’t be shy, my little fox.” Sherlock cooed, his facial muscles couldn’t hold out much longer. The affected smile he plastered on earlier was twisting into something unrecognisable. This was humiliation, he, a noble vampire, was crouching on the dirty ground trying to reason with a animal. People would definitely talk.

The little head shook stubbornly as it retreated futher to the corner as the last defense. Sherlock dropped the act immediately, not even bothering to cover up his true nature. His non-existent patience was wearing thin, there was no way he would crawl into the cage and risk soiling his pristine clothes. He growled in frustation and then an idea crossed his mind. 

The evil glint in those piercing eyes made the fox’s thorax palpitated with fear and anticipation. It curled into a furry ball save for tiny, curious eyes peaking out from beneath its thigh, triangular ears perking up for any slightest commotions.

“ If you don’t get out at once, I would kill this useless chunk of meat and leave its corpse to the hawks nibbling. You get three seconds to decide”. The dark cloud brewing behind his eyes was getting thicker. 

It was by no means an empty threat. 

The slumping heap of the dog induced by heavy dose of drugs was evident itself. 

It had put up a fight before went out cold, unable to resist the chemicals. Stupid dog.

An inner battle occurred in the creature, its head titled in consideration. Something remsembling determination flashed in those eyes and tentatively it crawled towards the direction of a very gleeful vampire. 

“That is it, come to me. Good little pet.”

He wouldn’t let his skittish prey flee, now that the prize had presented itself right in front of him. He could imagine tasting it on his tongue, the rich flavour of warm blood bursting on the tip of his gustation. His throat gulped unconciously at the vision, stream of thought was broken into shards by the sound of his flesh being gnawing at by tiny blunt teeth. Or more precisely his own hand. The vampire groaned in shock and staggered backwards for a bit, gawking at the bite- mark in bewilderment as the wound healed itself together. No one had dared to attack him before.

The sneaky thing seized the chance to slip away unnoticed. Unfortunately, it was swept off up in the air by a vice grip and found itself confronting a triumphant vampire. 

“Interesting. You thought you could escape a vampire. Foolish little thing, imagine your blood would be even more appetizing, blood of the myth”all the clues had pointed to the same conclusion- blindingly obvious and yet none had seen it- a shapeshifter”. 

The vampire breathed out the word with wonder and joy. As he expected, the cub was panic stricken, struggling against those iron clamps in earnest. His endeavour was pathetic but somehow it made Sherlock inexplicably aroused and excited at the same time. 

There was only one thing that needed to be done left.

“Change back to your human form. Change back and I promise I will let the dog free. I will make sure it get adopted into a good family and believe me when I say I always keep my promises.”

Sherlock murmured softly followed by a gust of breath that made its hair stand one end. 

The fox was weary of the stranger and the whole situation. It had no choice but to trust the ghoul’s words.

A moment of hesitation passed, before he felt a spasm run along those furred limbs. The contractions intensified, accompanied by pain groans before they turned to whimpers. The pelt disappeared replaced by a sofe span of white skin and the body became larger and larger. Its face contorted in utter agony, the brown fur pulled back revealed soft strands of dirty blond.

A few twitches later a fully naked male form was dangling helplessly in his grip, weakened by the change and probable hunger. Even in this new form he seemed small and incredibly young for a human. 

“Satisfied” He spat out, his voice was hoarse from disuse. Sherlock detected a hint of sarcasm nonetheless he was pleased.

“Very” But not yet.

Abruptly, Sherlock turned the human around so his back pressed flat again the firm, broader chest, mindful of those fragile bones. His grip didn’t loosen a bit. The human was confused, utterly ignorant of what was about to happen to him.

Something miraculous.

Sherlock bent down and took a lungful of breath. A shrieking sound pierced through the air as the cusps of his fangs sunk down on the sinful neck bustling with vessels and life. Moans of escstacy rolled out of his lips as the crimson liquid filled his mouth to the brim. Silencing everything else. Except for the drumming heartbeat. He couldn’t think properly, in the mid of hazy fog clouding his lucidity, those thoughts kept clashing against each other and scattering away like dust. The heavenly moment lasted for mere seconds but somehow it seemed like eternity.

Sherlock sighed in contentment and withdrew reluctantly. Lapping the lesion carefully until it healed up nicely. It would be sufficient for now considering it was the first draught. For the first time in his immortal life, the constant thirst inside him abated surrounded by a feeling of satiation. A feeling which the vampire thought never would exist in him. He punctured his right wrist and droplets of blood begun to trickle down the ground beneath. 

The human’s head lolled against his shoulder blade, partly because of the blood loss but mainly because of the violent pleasure that was crashing through his mortal body, overloading his sensory perception. He went lax like a pile of mush in the vampire’s embrace.

Sherlock nudged his wrist at delicate lips. A silent command for him to drink. 

“Ghaa nooou” The litte shapeshifter slurred, twitching his head in refusal. Sherlock shushed him off with a gentle lick to the helix, pouring encouraging words into his ear.

“Shhhh. Drink it, it will make you feel better. Be good and drink it for me”.

And just like that the last threshold of conscious faded away from the human. He succumbed to the compulsion and begun to latch on and suck like a newborn kitten. 

“Ishh teists soo weeird ughh” Sherlock chuckled at the statement.

The blood tasted strange at first but the bitterness soon passed away to be replaced by a luscious and addictive savour. 

So he had been told.

The shapeshifter moaned in bliss and carried on drinking with an eager rhythm, the stinging ache in his neck dissipating.

“That is it. Drink it. Good boy” Sherlock soothed the little human, stroking his hair tenderly, showing him his reward for being so obedient. 

“What is your name?”

 

“Johnna. John Watsonn”. The name was not at all what the vampire had expected. A bit mediocre. But then again John Watson had proved to be full of pleasant surprises, was he not?

“John Watson, son of Walter, in the presence of the sun, the moon and our holly blood will you swear loyalty to your master, Sherlock Holmes. To be devoted to me, to be bound to my will and obedient to my wishes until death separates us”. The human remained silent, resuming sipping from the pale wrist with an intense fixation. Too engrossed in the feeding to respond.

He drew his wrist away, the appendage disengaging with an obscene squelching sound. A thin string of saliva dangling from where John’s mouth entwined to his artery just moment ago. John sobbed, trying desperately to reach for it. Between the change, the starvation and the ghoul’s super strength the human stood no chance.

“Nooo” he whined. His eyes yearned for the bloody limb to be back.

The human was too willful to surrender himself permanently therefore this was the only way the oath could work. Sherlock would take whatever he could get. With or without consent.

“Then say it. Say the word”Sherlock prompted, his tone took on an urgent pitch.

“Say yes and I will give you more. Say it” 

“I, hmmm, yeaayes…Yes” Just a single word and yet the vampire had gained power over John. After the third drinks, John would be irrevocably bound to him and he would belong to Sherlock forever. And ever.

He sighed fondly at the limp figure in his arms, his fingers reached out to caress and fondle those plump lips. Such a beautiful sight to behold, tainting with his own blood. A ruddy glow coloured John’s cheeks made the human looked as though he was drunk. Or perhaps he was, drunk on the ghoul’s blood. Oddly enough, the thought delighted him. 

Oh, how he wanted to lean down and devour John in one bite. Instead, he gave John’s nose a small peck. Sherlock had no wish for the human to die, accidentally or deliberately. There was nothing extremely pleasant and interesting about a putrid corpse. Alive things were always much more fascinating.

At this stage there would be nothing but sleep for John.

And when he woke up, John would become his thrall, his vassal, his servant, his pet. Whatever he deemed fit enough. John might despise him, resist him but in the end the blood oath would take over and wipe out everything. His hatred, his backbone, his conscience. Filling his pure heart with a sense of loyalty and affection for his master.

The vampire removed his cloak, wrapping it tightly around the skinny frame and lifting him up gently like a pliant doll. It would not do for John to catch a cold given his already unwell condition. He turned to address the paralysed man huddled up in the corner.

“If you ever mention this event to anyone, I assure you, on behalf of my lineage, a merciless and painful death shall fall upon you and your entire family. Do you understand?”.

“Yesss, ….sirr”. The man stammered, he had managed to piss himself out of fear. How disgusting.

“Good. And see it to it that the dog disappears”. The implication hung in the air kill the dog and bury its cavader somewhere nobody would see.

There would be no relation to his possession. Not even a dog. From this moment on, John was his and his alone. 

A heavy leather pouch landed on the hard surface with a jiggling noise. A small compensation for the inconvenience. With a faint whoosh, the vampire had vanished into the thin air as if he was never there and it was just a delusion of the poor man.


End file.
